Fall of the North
by AngelOfPride
Summary: Wolf!Hetalia. The five Nordic pups of Scandanavia find their world thrown into bloodshed after their father is murdered by Germania. Forced to hide in their own land, Iceland finds that survival becomes less appealing when you have to watch each of your family slip away. The North becomes colder than ever before... Fav and Follow :)
1. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Hey guys so just some notes:**

**This is wolf!hetalia. Just a warning if you don't like that sort of thing.**

**Sorry that EVERYTHING is gonna be historically inaccurate- I just shot for a good story and while I tried to do some research, it was sort of a sudden idea.**

**Partially inspired by Tribbleofdoom's youtube series- Cow of The Wild, go check it out, it's amazing and far more serious than it sounds!**

**ENJOY, FOLLOW AND FAV!**


	2. CHARACTER REFS

Nordics character sheets:

Denmark-

Age equivalent- 15

Appearance: Muscles sturdy frame. A russet/chestnut pelt with darker patches beneath his eyes and a lighter muzzle and underbelly-a darker stripe down his back and paws. Sky blue eyes.

Sweden-

Age equivalent- 14 and 3/4

Appearance: Long legs and lithe. A very dark grey (almost black) pelt with white patches below his eyes, and a white underbelly and silver paws and muzzle. Pale blue eyes.

Norway-

Age equivalent- 13

Appearance: Small and lithe. A white pelt with a silver muzzle and paws and patches beneath his eyes. Violet eyes.

Finland-

Age equivalent- 11

Appearance: Well built but small. A pale russet-chestnut pelt with a lighter muzzle and underbelly and paws and patches below her eyes. Big violet eyes.

Iceland-

Age equivalent- 19

Appearance: Small, stubby but skinny. A silver pelt with a darker muzzle and stripe down his back and patches below his eyes but white paws. Purple/red eyes.

Scandinavia-

Age equivalent- 38

Appearance: Huge wolf with a muscular frame. A dark russet-chestnut pelt with a white muzzle, paws and underbelly and a very dark grey stripe down his back and patches beneath his eyes. A couple of scars and light blue eyes.

Germania-

Age equivalent- 40

Appearance: Large pale tan coloured wolf with long fur. Lighter belly and muzzle. Dark blue-grey eyes.

**A/N : I wasn't sure who is older out of Finland and Norway. I think it's Norway but just to be safe I made them around the same age**


	3. 1 New Lands

"Are we there _now_ dad?"  
>"He told you five minutes ago Denmark- we'll get there when we get there."<br>"That was five minutes ago!"  
>"Will you be quiet? You'll wake up Iceland!"<br>"It's not my fault he's too small to walk by himself!"  
>Iceland blearily opened his eyes at the voices, and found himself looking at the snowy ground below his dangling paws. He felt his father's strong jaws clutching his scruff securely, and resisted the urge to be lulled back to sleep as he swayed to and fro.<p>

"Oh great- you've woken him up now." Norway grunted, and Iceland raised his head to see his white-pelted brother trudging along at Scandinavia's side.

"Well we're practically already here so it doesn't matter." Sweden grunted, and Iceland turned his head to see his eldest brother's smoky grey fur at the front of the group.

Finland and Denmark were trotting along just behind him.

"Here?" Iceland yawned, "Where's 'here'?"  
>"Germania's place you feather-brain." Denmark snorted, shaking out his caramel and white coat.<p>

"Give him a break, he was sleeping." Finland said softly, glancing back to smile supportively at Iceland.

Scandinavia lowered him down, and Iceland winced with a shudder at the touch of the snow.

He raised his small muzzle, sniffing at the cool air- it wasn't as cold as it was in his home. An odd, foreign scent hit his nose, causing him to narrow his violet eyes.

"I can smell other wolves...but that scent's not from any of our countries are they?"  
>Scandanavia smiled down at him fondly, "This isn't any of our countries Iceland. These are Germania's wolves."<p>

"They all have different scents?"  
>"Of course."<br>"Duh!" Denmark stuck his tongue out with a sly grin- Scandinavia cuffing his ear and silencing him.

As the family kept going, curiosity continued to probe at his mind.

"Dad, is Germania...nice?"  
>There was a silence as all five pups swivelled their heads to look their father, who flattened his ears carefully, "Well..." he grunted, "He's...strict."<p>

"Is he scary?" Finland asked. Iceland kept his eyes on his father's huge, well muscled figure. It was difficult to imagine anything frightening Scandinavia.

Before the adult could answer, Denmark scoffed, "Of course not! Nothing's scary to Dad!"

Sweden rolled his eyes, "Everybody's scared of something. It's instinct- father's told you that over and over."

Denmark glared at him, and Iceland grinned as his oldest brothers began to shove at eachover, disappearing over the slope as they squabbled.

But something was still gnawing at him, "Dad, is that true? That everybody's afraid of something?" he asked as they walked, jumping through the snow.

Scandinavia lashed his long tail, "I think so. Fear is a drive- it's a form of survival." he rumbled.

Iceland tilted his head, "So is Germania your fear?"  
>Scandinavia chuckled, shaking his head, "No, not Germania- though he thinks he is."<br>"Then what are _you_ scared of?" Finland piped up, large amethyst eyes wide.

"Only of losing my sons. And I'm not going to let that happen." their father assured.

Iceland beamed in reassurance, Finland and Norway exchanging satisfied glances.

"Dad! We're here-Ow! I gave up already Sweden, cut it out!"

Denmark's voice rang from up ahead, and Iceland took a deep breath, wondering what Germania was going to be like.


	4. 2 A Heart Colder than the North

Scandinavia was a liar. Germania. Was. Terrifying.

The moment they'd seen him, the brothers had huddled together uncomfortably- even Sweden had shifted a little closer himself after Finland nearly crushed him.

Iceland could only stare in shock and fright. Germania was certainly not as sturdy as his father, but he was taller, and his piercing blue eyes were like the cold, dark waters beneath a lake of ice- so different to Scandinavia's morning sky gaze.

"Ah, Scandinavia- glad you could come on such short notice." the tan male chuckled with a grin, his voice sly.

"Always a pleasure Germania." Scandinavia said curtly- but Iceland could sense how even he was slighly guarded.

Germania's grin- if possible- grew bigger, "Quite." He looked down at the five young wolves, "Ah, and these must be your pups. Handsome lot aren't they?"

Iceland fidgeted closer to Norway, shuffling his paws timidly as he felt his brothers' pelts all pressed closer together around him.

Germania eyed each of them in turn, as though choosing a piece of prey, "You've got a little clone here I see." he chuckled coldly as he settled on Denmark- the russet pup glowering and flattening his ears defensively.

Iceland was relieved when Scandanavia put a protective paw subtly infront of them, "Thankyou." he grunted simply.

Germania stood straight again with an interested flick of his ears, "Anyway- shall we go into my den and speak? My wolves will show your sons where they can wait."

Scandinavia nodded, and Iceland was relieved when two friendly looking she-wolves came and guided them away- though he was still intruiged. What did Germania want to talk to his father about?

After a couple of hours, he grew bored. Finland, Sweden and Denmark were talking to some older pups their own age, and Norway was talking to his imaginary creature friends. Neither option really interested the youngest son, and so, glancing around him, he slipped away from the lazy watch of the she-wolves and swerved through the wolves, memorising the way to where Germania disappeared with his father.

When he arrived, he skidded to a halt, standing behind the wall.

"I said no."  
>Scandinavia, I don't think you're being reas-"<p>

"No. I have no quarrel with Rome- Besides, what use have I for land so far south?"

"Think of your sons."  
>"Don't you dare bring them into this!" Iceland jumped at his father's furious snarl, "It's for their benefit that I won't drag my land into war!"<br>"You're trying my patience Scandinavia. Just think of it. All that extra land- all those wolves at our every call!"  
>"You mean your call. I won't be an unpaid general for whatever your plan is. I don't want to be involved in the murder of another nation."<p>

Scandinavia felt a touch of pride at his father's stubbornness, but also fear as he heard Germania's temper slowly unravel. And who was Rome? Why did Germania want him dead?

"You're making a mistake northerner." the other wolf growled threateningly.

"If I am then I will take the Gods punishment later. Now, I'm going back to my lands."

Gasping, Iceland rushed back to his brothers before his father exited the den.

When he arrived back, skidding to a halt and panting, Norway looked at him in relieved confusion, "Iceland, where on earth did you go?"  
>Iceland swiped his tongue over his muzzle wearily, "I-"<p>

Just then, Scandinavia appeared, "Boys, come on, we're going home."

A few months after arriving back at the North, Iceland's thoughts still and his father's conversation with Germania.

He tried to forget, and bounce through the snow with his brothers. As a new load of snow began to gently fall, he leapt up, trying to catch the large snowflakes. He huffed as he fell into the snow unsuccessfully, a snowflake landing smugly onto his nose.

He looked up at a chuckle, and saw Denmark with a hare in his jaws, "Nice " he grunted through the fur.

Iceland scowled at him, sitting up and shaking the snow from his fur, "A hare is bigger. It's easier." he mumbled.

Denmark rolled his eyes, "A hawe moves." with that he trudged off.

Iceland huffed, lashing his tail. He crouched down, ready to leap for another snowflake, when suddenly;

"GET OUT!"

He yelped, standing with his fur on end at his father's voice. His curiosity and worry overcoming him, he quietly slipped back to where his father was.

His eyes widened as he crouched behind the thicket of thick, leafless brambles, grateful for his silver fur.

Before him, Scandinavia was glowering with bared teeth at Germania, who was grinning smugly.

"You know, it's amazing how quickly your wolves will cooperate once there's teeth at their throats." Germania chuckled. Iceland swallowed hard as he saw around eight large wolves behind him.

Finland and Sweden were stood beside their father, Finland hiding behind his older brother, who was glowering at the Germanic wolves.

"Get out of my land! Now!" Scandinavia snarled, lowering his head defensively.

Germania appeared undeterred, "Now now now, we're not here for any trouble. I simply wish to talk to the great King of Northern Europe in his own lands- hoped it might make him more open minded." he sneered.

Scandinavia growled low in his throat, "I apologise for your wasted journey. I told you my decision on the matter, and that's final!"

Germania chuckled again, and Iceland saw his father's eyes blaze furiously at the mocking tone of his voice, "Oh my dear Scandinavia, you make it sound like you have a choice! Well, I'm afraid you lost that when you refused my first, more than reasonable offer. Now listen, Rome is weak, Scandinavia! His only legacy is those pathetic grandsons of his! There's nobody to threaten us! Nobody to stand against us if we get rid of him!" His eyes narrowed, "and you _will_ stand by me!"

Scandinavia flattened his ears, "I'd sooner die than stand by a traitor!"  
>Germania snarled, but Iceland felt dread fill him at the smile that still pulled on his face, "Then you, and your pups, will die!"<br>Scandinavia's eyes widened as the eight wolves advanced suddenly, and he shoved Sweden and Finland out of their path right before he disappeared under the powerful wolves.

Iceland could only stare in horror as he caught the occasional flash of his father's pelt being torn apart under the snarling wolves. As Finland bolted away in blind terror, one broke away to race after him, and Iceland felt terror and horror fill him as he heard his brother's sharp yelp over the slope.

He didn't know where Sweden had gone, and only hoped he'd escaped.

Then, the wolves all backed off from his father's body...

Tears fell freely down the pup's face as he stared at Scandinavia's broken form. Gashes covered his russet body, blood pooling in the snow around him...The King of Northern Europe was nothing now...

He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. But suddenly a fluffy tail covered his jaws. However, relief flooded him when he saw Norway huddled in the snow beside him, staring in sheer shock at their father's body.

Germania nudged Scandinavia's body, huffing in satisfaction at the lack of response, then looked at his blood-soaked wolves, "Now, one pup down- four to go." he chuckled.


	5. The Sudden Storm

Iceland pressed closer to Norway as the Germanic wolves disappeared to find...well...them.

He shook in terror, "Norway t-they killed him! A-and Finland! And they're gonna k-kill you, and me a-and Sweden and D-Denmark..." he whimpered.

Norway was still staring at the father, "I-It's gonna be fine, Iceland. We...we just have to find Sweden and Denmark...th-they'll know what to do..."

They both jumped at the sound of paws in snow, fearing that Germania and his wolves had returned.

"Norway! Iceland!"  
>Iceland whirled around, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of Denmark. His older brother bounded up beside them, "Thank the Gods I found you!"<p>

Without thinking, Iceland buried his face in his brother's pelt, and was surprised when the older didn't pull away, rather press closer to him, Norway joining them.  
>"We're all alone..." Iceland whimpered.<p>

"We'll be fine." Denmark assured him, though the doubt in his voice was obvious, "Dad taught us how to fend for ourselves."

"It's easier to talk about something than to put it into practice..." Norway muttered.

"Norway...Denmark..."  
>"Dad!"<br>All three swivelled around in shock, racing to their father's side with relief on their faces. Iceland felt hope spring up in his heart like a flower. Maybe they would be okay! Father was alive, they just had to find Sweden! Maybe Finland was okay and they could get him back too!

"You have to run..."  
>The hope died, "You...you have to keep out of sight, off the main paths...f...find a regular pack that will hide you..."<br>"But, you can look after us!" Iceland cried.

His father looked at him weakly, a look so pitiful; Iceland felt cruel for the thought, but it was almost shameful. A look of sheer defeat- one that should never grace the stoic features of the King of Northern Europe.

"N...not anymore little one...you have to go, before they...they return...and keep eachover safe..." the brothers winced as Scandinavia wretched pathetically, blood splattering before their paws. The youngest resisted the urge to pull away, not let the scarlet liquid poison his silver fur.

"W-we will Father..." Norway murmured, leaning forward and licking the older wolf's pelt in one final act of affection.

Iceland stared between his brothers desperately, "We're going to leave?!"  
>"We don't have a choice." Norway rasped as their father closed his eyes slowly, his breathing becoming more ragged and quiet.<p>

"But-"  
>"Iceland!" Denmark growled, tears in his eyes, "He said run, so we have to run, or we'll die too!"<p>

Iceland stared in despair at his older brothers, then at his father's now lifeless form. He blinked back tears and then nodded, and the three pelted out into the snowy forest. Home had never felt so unwelcoming.

**A/N: sorry this is so short! The next one is a hopefully gonna be a lot longer so I wanted it to be entirely separate. Hope you're enjoying the story so far! **


	6. 4 Just Too Alike

The three ran for months. They tried to settle like Scandinavia had told them, but it was hard. Every pack they came across either turned them away as strangers, or was occupied by a Germanic spy. Thankfully, that scent was a give-away, and Iceland was glad he could now recognise it.

The time took its toll. They were exhausted, cold and hungry. Iceland had yet to learn to hunt properly, and while Denmark and Norway were capable of bringing down big prey- they were still small, and they lacked the strength of a whole pack. Every day, Iceland would hide in whatever little nook of crevice they could find, while his brothers took turns to watch him and then hunt. And then, at sunset- they would be on the move again until the moon was at its peak. Then they would rest wherever possible until morning, and then the cycle would continue. To make matters worse, they still had no idea where Sweden had gone.

It was a miserable life- and it only got worse.

Iceland sighed, shifting in the small snow hole Norway had dug out for them. It was warmer than most of their previous settlements thankfully, but sleep was still difficult. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the great Scandinavia, his father, lying defeated; he heard Finland's screech of fright as he disappeared over the slope, pursued by a wolf twice his size with his father's blood on its face.

"Iceland-please stop fidgeting." Norway grunted, not opening his eyes.

"Sorry." Iceland whispered, careful not to wake Denmark on his other side.

"You should be." his oldest brother mumbled.

Oops. So much for not waking him up.

A sudden howl made them all prick their ears. Iceland whimpered and pressed closer to Norway. This wasn't the first time they'd heard Germania's wolves. He hadn't given up his pursuit of the sons of Scandinavia, and he didn't show any signs of stopping soon.  
>"They're closer than they were yesterday." Norway muttered.<p>

Denmark nodded, raising his head blearily, "Definitely. We should leave early- try and cover more ground."

Norway blinked in agreement, "So we need to rest for now." he said, resting his head back on his paws.

Iceland sighed. He'd learnt already that it was better to just let his brothers decide their plan than to interject- so he too settled down and closed his eyes, and this time, sleep slowly overcame him.

Another howl, this time much closer, woke the brothers a few hours later; as dawn light was just emerging.

"How did they get so close that fast?" Norway grumbled with worry as he nudged Iceland out of the makeshift den.

Denmark emerged after, shaking his fur quickly, "They must have been travelling all night! We hae to get moving!" he picked up Iceland by the scruff, and bolted in the direction..whatever it was...that they were heading in, Norway on his heels.

After a short time, it became clear that their scent had been caught. There was even an occasion where they were overlapped by some scouts sniffing along.  
>"They came this way!"<br>"Well then let's go! You heard Germania- There's only three left."

Iceland winced. That meant they'd found Sweden, "Go for the oldest two- the youngest is probably dead by now anyway."  
>"I still don't see why they're such a threat..."<br>"They're the sons of Scandinavia- Nordics, and not to mention the oldest-Denmark, is still out there. If he doesn't get dealt with, he could start an uprising against Germania. The son of Scandinavia, a young and strong wolf offering _freedom_; you can bet they'll jump for it! _Hmph_ the boy's too much like his father for his own good."  
>Iceland couldn't help but glance at Denmark, who had narrowed his eyes warily.<p>

After some time, the scouts had retreated back to the rest of their patrol, and the brothers could move on again. However, their fatigue was weighing them down, and it soon became obvious that they didn't stand much hope of outrunning them.

They'd reached a large, snow-covered field, an open plain of white, by around noon. Norway had nearly collapsed, and Denmark needed time to catch his breath from carrying Iceland the whole way. Iceland himself, didn't stand a chance of running anymore.

However, their rest was short lived, as yet another howl rang out that Germania was closing in.

"We have to keep going." Norway sighed, getting to his feet again, ears drooping.

Iceland wanted to curl up and cry- he was tired! He didn't want to keep running!

Denmark reached down to pick him up, then stopped, glancing behind them.

Norway lashed his tail, "Denmark! What are you doing?"  
>Denmark narrowed his eyes, turning fully to face the thin line of dead trees they had just emerged from, "I'm the one they're after most. If I lead them off then they won't hunt you so persistently."<p>

Iceland stared at him in horror, "B-but you'll die!"  
>"He's right Denmark, you can't outrun them!" Norway cried.<p>

"I'm more afraid of you two dying than dying myself! Now go!"

"But-"

"Go!"

Iceland winced, glancing at Norway. His older brother stared at Denmark in despair momentarily, before nodding and scooping Iceland in his jaws, racing through the thick snow. They managed to get through the field and up the pile of boulders on the other side, hiding in the crevices- when they heard Denmark's distant howl of pain...

Norway winced, and Iceland stared out to the field in despair, as though he might still be able to see his brother.  
>"Iceland, we have to go..."<br>"No! We can't leave him!"  
>"It's too late now! He gave himself up so we could escape, do you want that to be for nothing?"<br>Iceland sniffed, and Norway quickly licked his ear comfortingly. This was their father all over again!

He nodded silently, and Norway grasped him in his jaws and started to climb the rocks again.

They travelled slower now- Norway was smaller and not as strong as Denmark, and he couldn't carry Iceland for the long distances their brother had. That, and grief weighed them down like a stone.

Iceland rolled onto his side in the small hole in the river bank that Norway had found. A cold breeze drifted in and he shivered- longing for his brothers' pelts to warm him again. But Sweden, Finland and Denmark were all gone. Norway was sitting outside, watching the stars.

Iceland held back the tears and curled into a tight ball as he heard his brother's voice crack as he mumbled, "They were right...You were too much like dad for your own good..."


	7. The Last Speck of Snow

Further days passed- weeeks, months, maybe a year even, but Iceland lost track.

He scarcely heard the constant rumbling of his stomach now, or noticed the way his ribs jutted out persistently against his still mostly soft fur.

It seemed things had just gotten worse. When they weren't running they were too exhausted to hunt, when they didn't hunt they couldn't sleep, when they didn't sleep they couldn't run as far- it went on and on in a vicious cycle.

And to make things worse, Norway had fallen ill. He'd yet to admit it, but Iceland could tell- you didn't need to be a grown-up to know that when somebody can't even lift a paw out of the snow, there was something wrong.

Norway insisted it was nothing, and every time, Iceland felt guilt gnaw away at his gut at the sacrifice his older brother was making- every morsel of prey he found was almost force fed to the younger pup, a desperately needed re-fuelling before another two days of empty stomachs. Another four sometimes in Norway's case.

His brother's eyes had become dull, emotionless. Iceland hadn't realised how much they'd relied on Denmark to keep their hopes up and how much faith they'd put in him to pull them through this.

_'Just like dad'_ Iceland thought, almost bitterly.

Everytime he saw Norway's dull, violet gaze, he was reminded of the empty space around them. Where was Finland's cheerful laughter, Sweden's gentle corrections, Denmark's loud boasting?

Iceland squinted up at the clouded sky, blinking as he turned to look down at the vast, empty grey. So much grey. The snows continued to fall, gentler now, but there all the same, a constant nagging. He tried to ignore Norway wheezing behind him as his brother dragged his skinny frame up the slope. Norway had lost his puppy fur, replacing it with a pristine silver pelt that glinted when the light hit it. He showed promise of what would have become a handsome wolf- never to have been as large or strong as Sweden and Denmark, but lean and athletic. Iceland felt more bitterness seethe through him as he realised that his brother would probably never reach the unique potential he should have. All because of Germania.

His father's old enemy hadn't given up yet, but as Denmark had said- he'd relaxed the patrols. The howls ceased through the night, if it weren't for their hunger they might of even been able to sleep. However, the moment dawn light shimmered through the fir trees, the hunt would start again, and the two remaining sons of Scandinavia would be on the run once more.

A faint howl erupted behind them, followed by several more, causing Iceland to wince.

Norway breathed a heavy sigh as he stumbled up beside him, "They've caught our scent." he rasped.

Iceland looked at his brother in dismay. He was still a little shorter than Norway, but recently the older wolf didn't even have the strength to lift his head, and so Iceland found himself gazing down at his pitifully weak sibling.

"Can you make it?" he asked dumbly.

Norway raised his hollow eyes, "Probably not." he said stiffly, then sighed and tore one skinny foreleg through the snow as he headed towards the forest in the valley, "But what choice do I have?"  
>If it were any other situation, Iceland could have laughed at his brother's stubbornness, but this was no time for laughing- there hadn't been a time for happiness since the day his father had been slaughtered.<p>

In the days that followed, Norway's condition worsened rapidly. He could barely take a step without collapsing, or a breath without coughing or clenching his eyes shut in agony.

They'd located an abandoned fox den, and Iceland had managed to dig it out into a larger hole, not that it took much expanding due to their current sizes. The river was close, not five minutes away, but whenever he tried to coax Norway out to get there, his white-pelted brother just shook his head and said, "I'll catch up in a second." Of course, he never did, and every day Iceland would return to find his brother curled up in the den, shaking and wheezing.

Germania must have been closing in by now- probably so confident in themselves that they didn't feel the need to hurry. Iceland knew he had to get his brother outside and regain his strength- but deep down, he knew that wasn't happening any time soon.

One night, while the stars glimmered and the snowflakes slowly fell outside, Iceland lay awake with his head on his paws, staring out to the darkness.

"Norway?" he muttered suddenly.

"hmm..."

"Are you dying?"  
>Silence, and Iceland knew his fears had been confirmed. He couldn't help the small whimper as tears threatened to fall down his face.<p>

Suddenly, he felt his brother's protruding spine press against his side, and he looked down at Norway, who had half opened one lifeless violet eye to look at him, "Go to sleep."

His voice was soft, smooth. Iceland swallowed hard as he realised how much strain that must of taken, to get those three words out- just so that the younger wouldn't remember him as a sickly, weak burden. He wanted to say that he had never seen Norway as such- that he had always thought him to be just as strong as Sweden and Denmark, even if he wasn't as big.

But he didn't. He just nodded mutely and rested his head down again, listening to the sound of his brother's ragged breaths becoming fainter and fainter as sleep overcame him.

When he awoke the next morning, he didn't even need to think about it. He knew his brother was gone. As he looked to his side, he saw no body- but that didn't come as a surprise; Norway had always said he wanted to die where nobody could pity over his body- he'd been saying that a lot more recently. His suspicion was confirmed as he glanced outside to see the telltale marks of dragged paws- no struggle, just a small wolf hauling himself off into the unknown to die alone.

Iceland swallowed hard as he crouched down, holding back the tears. Now he really was alone.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to pull himself together- he had to handle grief, he'd lost four brothers and his father in a year- he could handle himself. Right?

"It's fine." he muttered to himself, "I'm fi-"  
>He was cut off by a sharp yelp as a set of savage teeth started snapping in the entrance of the den, the sound of jeering and barking suddenly erupting from outside. Germania's wolves.<p>

The young wolf winced, scrambling to press his back firmly against the back of the den, his heart pounding and his eyes wide with terror.

"Come on little prince," one of the wolves called out tauntingly, "You're next in line now- all of Scandinavia's land is yours! Come and get it!"  
>The tears now fell freely from Iceland's face- so they'd found Norway's body.<p>

"Nobody can protect you now! Get out here so we can all go home!" the wolf scrambling to get to him bellowed, laughing haughtily.

This was it. He was going to die. He was going to be joining his brothers after all- their sacrifices were for nothing!

He closed his eyes tightly, praying to the spirits in the trees, in the river, in the sky.

The sound of barking went on and on, but suddenly became..less enthusiastic. There was the sound of furious snarls, yelps of pain, howls for aid.

He didn't know how long it lasted, but there was silence save for a small shuffling outside after a while.

"Little one?"  
>He opened one eye at the deep, feminine voice- glancing out in fear at the large she-wolf crouched before him, "Come, we will not harm you."<br>When he didn't move, she smiled kindly, "You do not know me, but I have heard much of you, child. My sister and I knew your father well."

He didn't know what it was, but he trusted this she-wolf. Her accent was foreign to him, her voice low and authoritative yet still so motherly. Her eyes were a rich forest green, her fur a pale beige with a deeper toned streak that stretched from the tip of her long muzzle to just between her eyes, as well as a thicker one down her back. She was sturdy looking, not as broad as the she-wolves from his own lands, but strong-framed none the less.

Hesitantly, he crept out into the open, ears ringing warily as he took in the surrounding wolves, mostly male, but with the occasional female. All shared her sturdy structure, graceful yet strong, and all looked to the she-wolf, and a second she-wolf who stood behind her. She was slightly larger, but leaner, with long, shining cream fur as opposed to her companion's short pelt. Her paws and muzzle where such a pale gold that they could have been white, and her eyes were a beautiful striking blue, the colour of the sky at midday in summer.

The second she-wolf spoke up, and there was such pride and strength in her smooth tone, "I am Gaul, this is my sister Britannia." she looked down at Iceland, who shifted slightly under her gaze, "Now, Iceland, Last Born Son of Scandinavia, now heir to the North- I feel it best you come with us- we've much to discuss."

**PLEASE READ:**

**A/N: AAAH GUYS! So sorry this took so long to update! I honestly didn't think anybody was reading it so I sort of forgot its existence until I had a review for it yesterday! **

**I promise to be updating this more frequently now that I'm back in the zone! As always thanks for reading, please favourite, follow and review if you enjoyed! xx**


	8. Icy Waters

The journey to Britannia and Gaul's camp was long. Iceland felt a prickle of fear with every step that he took into this new world, despite the squad of wolves that patrolled all around them.

"So, you live together? In the same lands?" he asked, glancing up at Britannia.

The large she-wolf shook her broad head, glancing at her sister who was leading the small band, "No, but very close. We both have our own lands, cultures and wolves to rule- duty comes before blood."  
>Iceland tilted his head, imagining if he and his brothers had ever had the chance to grow up together. It had never occurred to him that they would be divided by borders- the thought unnerved him.<p>

"So," he muttered, trying to wrap his head around the situation, "Who's lands are we going to?"  
>Britannia flicked her ears towards him as she blinked her forest green eyes, vibrant amongst the world of white, "My own." she flattened her ears hesitantly, "Gaul's lands border with Germania's, it'd be much too risky to take you there. Germania is already pressing her to give up more and more in order to cross over to reach Rome's territory."<br>Iceland pricked his ears, _'Rome! I remember that name! That's the wolf that my father refused to overthrow!'_

"Who is Rome?" he blurted, feeling desperation claw at his gut.

Britannia winced warily, then looked ahead again, breaking her gaze from him, "All will be revealed when we arrive home."  
><em>'She's hiding something' <em>Iceland thought, narrowing his eyes, _'Has she already said something she shouldn't have?'_

A small spark of dread fired up in his belly, fearing that he had been wrong to trust these wolves. However, he pushed it away. They'd saved his life when Germania wanted him dead- he had no reason to regard them as threats.

"As I was saying," Britannia continued, shaking her tan pelt a little as they made their way through the dead forest, "My homeland is by far the safer refuge." a hint of pride made its way into her voice, "The Gods blessed me with a river so large that it cut me off from the rest of the European packs. To Germania, my lands are too far north and much too difficult to get to for him to have any interest in invasion."  
>Iceland blinked as he tried to imagine such a place. A land of sanctuary, where the wolves remained strong and powerful, not worn and beaten by Germania's tyranny; where all was protected by a furious ocean and a raging river larger than any other in the world. Scandinavia had told him that, unlike his brothers- his own land was an island. Safe, yet lonely. Denmark had told him that wolves roaming island homes became cold and bitter from the icy ocean winds, suspicious of anybody from the mainland and with all the rage of a stormy sea. Norway had cuffed their older brother's ear and told him to stop scaring the youngest.<p>

Looking back at Britannia now, he was sceptical of Denmark's horror stories of savage wolves on rocky mounds surrounded by furious water. But then, Iceland had yet to see the large she-wolf angered as of yet. He noticed for the first time a set of scars over her right shoulder, slightly covered by the short layer of fur. The scars were deep and ragged, as though somebody had tried to rip the limb away from the rest of the body. Perhaps the seemingly gentle she-wolf was not as peaceful as he had first believed.

Reaching the border between Gaul and Britannia's lands, the next task was crossing the water. Squinting against the sun, Iceland could just see the hazy form of cliffs in the distance.

"The White Cliffs." Britannia had explained with a gleam of eagerness in her gaze, "The shortest point in crossing." 

They swam it. They actually swam it.

Nobody had looked particularly eager, not even Britannia, despite her longing to reach her lands. Gaul had been the most reluctant, obviously not wanting to once again leave her own home with Germania pressing at her borders. However, something seemed to motivate the sisters- though Iceland couldn't for the life of him tell what it was. Both seemed increasingly desperate to get over the small sea.

The water was cold, but not as cold at the shores Iceland and his brothers had splashed in when Scandinavia had taken them into the north of their territory. However, exhaustion set in after the first few hours, and it took all his effort to keep his muzzle and ears out of the icy depths. One of Gaul or Britannia's wolves were always close, giving him a little nudge when he started to flounder in the deep black. It would have been embarrassing if he wasn't so grateful for it. However, he couldn't help but imagine Sweden and Denmark easily gliding through the water with their long, powerful legs. It made him work that much harder to fight through the waves.

Needless to say, it took hours. The entire day. They started the swim at dawn, and only reached the shore of Britannia's island home by dusk. But they were there. They were safe.

The moment his exhausted paws touched sand, Iceland flopped onto the ground, half dragging himself up the shore, his pelt shaking. It was cold, but again, no worse than he was used to, though it was a minor shock after travelling through Gaul's comfortably warm lands for days.

All around him, he could hear the panting and tired murmuring of the sisters' wolves as they too dropped onto their haunches- even some of the strongest collapsed with a massive sigh of relief.

"Well done."  
>Iceland wearily raised his head to see Gaul looking down at him, the only wolf still on her feet- though her legs shook slightly. Her cream pelt hung from her lithe frame, dripping and dappled by the faint rays of sunlight that poked through the clouds above as she continued, "I must admit, I was sceptical about how you would cope with the journey."<p>

Iceland shrugged, wincing a little with the effort, "I didn't want any other wolves helping too much incase they wasted their energy." He breathed out, still trying to catch his breath, "Besides, if my land is an island too- who knows how far I'd have to go to reach it?"  
>Gaul nodded, seemingly satisfied and impressed by his answer, before turning to her sister, who's green eyes sparkled like the water now that she was home once again. Some of the other wolves had the same look in their gaze, while the slimmer, leaner ones like Gaul, seemed relieved but continued to glance longingly towards the faint shape of the cream she-wolf's lands that they had left behind in the distance.<p>

Britannia got to her paws to assemble the wolves, tail high in authority, "We will reach the top of the White Cliffs and rest there for the night. There is a cave nearby, and the trail leading up to it isn't very steep- I think everybody will be able to make it."  
>Though some wolves sighed at the prospect of having to get up and move again, Iceland could tell they were all secretly glad to get away from the icy sea that lapped further up the shore with every heartbeat.<p>

And they were safe. Germania would have no idea where he was by now, and he was protected by two other powerful nation alphas, even though he still had no idea why they were so eager to aid him in the first place if they themselves had yet to face a direct threat from Germania.

Either way, it felt good to finally be able to just sit down, and finally stop running- if only for a little while.

**A/N: uuugh sorry this took so long, and sorry it's quite short! **

**Yes, I know it's probably totally impossible for wolves to cross the English Channel, but I hated the idea of putting them on rafts or something humanistic-y like that. **

**As always, please review, fav and follow if you enjoy- hopefully the updates will be coming soon!**


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